Blistered Lips

On the Deck: Bill

Watching the encroaching dusk peel away the sunlight at the edges of the watery horizon, he wondered if the women would be at the party tonight. Of course, he couldn’t physically partake of the delights they’d flaunted. But he was after all a man, and their luscious ripeness, their womanly flirtations had haunted him long past the evening’s end. Long ago he’d come to terms with his own duality. There’d been no guilt when, in the darkness of his cabin, he’d stroked off his cock, imagining shooting his creamy spunk all over Lydia’s face and tits while her beautiful daughters engaged in equally lewd activities. And that in itself was enough to take back to the mainland at the end of this cruise. Enough material to fuel quite a few late night jerk-off sessions, yes indeedy!

As the waves rhythmically splashed against the sides of the ship, he chuckled. Wonder how those lovely gals would react, he thought, if I told them I’m a priest? Not that he felt it necessary; this wasn’t his first trip under the radar of Rome. Sometimes, the collar just had to come off. And he’d never revealed his vocation; not once. He’d even given in to temptation that one time in Mexico, a very long time ago. She’d never suspected the man fucking every hole she had that night was a priest. Of course, she’d been on vacation, herself. No loose ends to tidy up when it was all said and done.

Melanie, he was pretty sure, would just about drool if he told her the truth. There was something tawdry, almost tart-like, about her. He could still smell her perfume, could feel her nylon-encased foot rubbing up and down his leg, remembered the way she’d scooted closer, pushing the curve of her ass up against his thigh, seeming to enjoy the naughtiness of secretly flirting with someone to whom her mother was so obviously attracted. The woman was definitely on this cruise looking for action, and if she knew he was a priest, she was sure to feel the urge to bed him even more strongly.

Her mother, Lydia, well, even though she’d been so obviously interested in him, he thought the margaritas had a lot to do with that. Rather a prim one in her everyday life, he imagined. She’d told him she was a nurse. He had no problem conjuring up that vision. How gorgeous she must look, crisp white cotton uniform hugging every round and generous curve. He felt pretty sure that Lydia was, in her everyday, professional life, more than likely a bit removed, untouchable, always business-like.

And then there was Lydia’s other daughter, Lonnie, with her perfect little body; flirtatious in a cute, kind of shy way. A little bit of her mother in that young woman. Like her mother, the margaritas had loosened her up a little, but not nearly as much. Yet, despite her demure way, such a prick teaser with that hard, compact body and sweet ass. A divorcee and a school teacher, she was every adolescent boy’s wet dream. No doubt she’d been the cause of more than a few of her students leaving pecker tracks for their mothers to find on their sheets..

Closing his eyes against the ever-darkening vista before him, he could picture her luscious, full mouth pumping up and down on some teenager’s engorged erection, those delicate fingers massaging and teasing his young balls. He had to smile. Sixty years old, and he was still jerking off every day, sometimes two or three times. Yes, it had been a long time since he’d plugged a sweet piece of pussy, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying the filthy scenarios his mind played out. Even now, he could feel his prick beginning to stiffen in his shorts.

“So, what are you smiling about, you naughty, naughty boy?”

He opened his eyes to find Lydia standing there looking down at him. Still smiling, he winked at her. “Don’t want to shock you, now, Lydia,” he said, patting the arm of the deckchair beside him. “Why don’t you have a seat?” With dusk finally in full bloom, the deck lights had sparked on. He could see her eyes reflecting their twinkle. Or, perhaps, they twinkled on their own, evidence of her desire for him.

Lydia smiled back at him, running her fingers through her shoulder-length hair; then, curling a brown strand of it around her beautifully-manicured, French fingernail. She looked so enticing standing there: White shorts hugging her plump roundness; ripe, full breasts pushing against her yellow blouse. Wondering if she’d noticed the slight bulge against his fly or if it had been too dark, he motioned to the seat again.

“Come on, you sexy little thing you, sit down and give me the sweet treat of your company.”

He could see the pleasure in her face. She liked him flirting with her, no doubt about it. Oh woman, he thought, if you only knew the dirty things I would like to do to you. “OK,” she said as she slid into the deckchair, stretching out her tanned legs. “I will sit with you for a few minutes, but then I want to get ready for the party tonight.” She paused, looking at him. “You are going, aren’t you, Bill?” She practically purred that last bit. Oh, yes! She definitely was interested!

“You bet! Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Are Melanie and Lonnie going to be there, too?”

“Hmmm… Now why are you asking me that? Do you have a crush on one of my daughters?”

Although her tone was nonchalant and playful, he could sense the underlying jealousy. The truth was that, although he didn’t plan to act on it (he’d sworn off, after Mexico), he’d love to fuck all three of them in every nasty way he could possibly devise. Of course, he could no more tell her that than reveal he was a priest. Even though he would later—time and again—beat off, thinking about Leia’s wet cunt contracting around his dick, perhaps even while Melanie or Lonnie sucked on his balls, he had no intentions of going that far with any of them. Again, he couldn’t tell Lydia this.

What Lydia wanted, what she needed, was the attention, the seduction, the possibility. Which, when you got right down to it, was exactly what he wanted. The intrigue of the possibilities; that was what got his cock hard, what fueled the fantasies he would later imagine. Yes, he wanted to play with these women—all three of them—tonight, maybe even indulge in an ass-grab or the feel of stiff nipples rubbing against his chest during a slow dance.

Watching her pretend indifference as she looked out at the stars that were beginning to appear in the darkening blue-black sky, he chose his words carefully. “I have to admit, Lydia, your daughters are absolutely gorgeous. But, I’m a little too old for crushes, don’t you think? Even if I weren’t, how could any man not see where those two get their looks. Do you have any idea, any clue, how sexy you are? How beautiful you look this very moment?”

He waited for her reaction, wondering if he’d hit the right note. He thought he saw a slight squeeze of her thighs, an intake of breath. “You’re an interesting guy, Bill,” she said, leaning over the arm of the deckchair and reaching out to touch his elbow. She leaned in closer, softly brushing her warm, slightly moist lips up along the angle of his chin. Then she was at his ear, “See you at the party, darling.”

With that she pulled away, easing her luscious body out of the deckchair. He watched, surprised and pleased, not to mention slightly hard again, as she walked off into the darkness.